Enchanted
by spottedhorse
Summary: Edith and Anthony bump into one another in London.


It had been four months since that horrible day, the day he given up his life. The expression on her face, there at the altar as he delivered the blow still haunted his dreams at night. That is, on the nights when he wasn't haunted by other dreams, dreams of what might have been. He had known all along that he shouldn't have let her sway him. But she was so convincing that she had him believing that perhaps it might be alright, their marriage.

But he had known. Robert's less than enthusiastic response at dinner that last evening at Downton before the big day had brought his own worries back to the surface. But he'd managed to keep fooling himself until he heard the Dowager and Travis at the church. Then it all came crashing in on him. He couldn't do that to her, not to his dearest darling Edith. She deserved so much better. And so he had run, heartbroken and desperately, he ran away.

He'd gone on their honeymoon alone. Half way through he'd abandoned that idea. There was nothing lonelier than going on one's honeymoon alone, he discovered. So for a few weeks he meandered around Europe, lost. Finally he made it back to London. His sister had tried to insist on him staying at her house but he had declined. He wasn't good company and frankly, didn't want to be. So he was at Claridge's instead.

It was a bright day as he walked back from the bookshop but he was still living in a dark gray cloud. Turning the corner, his mind more on his purchase than where he was going, Anthony Strallan bumped into a woman, knocking her to the sidewalk. "Oh pardon me, I am so sorry," he said as he tucked his book under his useless arm and offered his left hand to aid her.

She had wallowed for weeks in misery, trying to find her way out. The morning after the wedding that went so wrong, she accepted her fate and resigned herself to life as the family spinster. But accepting one's role didn't necessarily mean things one felt good about it. Her nights were filled with dreams of happiness slipping from her grasp and her days had been filled with boredom. Finally, she had come to London to visit her aunt. But Rosamund while being kind was no comfort and so on this morning, on the excuse of having some shopping she wished to do, Lady Edith Crawley had escaped. She had just stepped out onto the walk when someone crashed into her, knocking her to the ground.

A hand appeared after a moment and a dearly familiar voice spoke. She took the offered hand and stood, looking into the startled eyes of Sir Anthony Strallan, the man who had left her at the altar. There were so many things she wanted to say and oh, how she wanted the throw her arms around him and claim him. But all she seemed capable of was looking up at him, astonished.

Anthony was shaken to discover it was Edith that he had bumped into. All of the feelings from the church came boiling back up and he felt like crying from joy and despair all at once. He had missed her so much and here she was. But she was lost to him; he had made sure of that. "Are you alright?" he asked softly, using that same strained tone from that momentous day four months ago.

As much as she wanted to respond, Edith couldn't seem to manage it. Instead, she stood, gawking up at him. And to further distress her, tears began to flow down her face.

The sight of her tears undid Anthony. "Oh my dear sweet one," he whispered, "Of course you are not alright."

His words, those same words from the wedding, gave her voice. "Don't say that to me…not those words…not after…that day!"

Stricken, Anthony stepped back, letting her hand drop. "I am sorry," he said with confidence that he didn't feel. "So very, very sorry…" Then glancing around to see if any of her family might be about and not seeing any, he inquired. "Are you here alone? Do you need help to get to…"

"I am alright," she insisted. "I was just on my way back to my aunt's. I will be fine," she said with determination.

"Well then, I'll leave you. And again, I am sorry," he said with a gentlemanly nod before turning and walking away.

Edith felt as if her heart was leaving with him. It wasn't the first time she felt that way. And as she watched him round the corner, she began to follow. She turned the corner in time to see him entering Claridge's. "So that is where you are staying," she mused. After watching the entrance a few more minutes, she turned and headed back to her aunt's house.

Anthony paced in his room, anxious and hurting. It had been so good to see her but there were things that hadn't escaped his notice, but then he was practiced at noticing everything about her. She was thinner and pale and there was sadness in her eyes that he had put there. "Oh why didn't I just stay away in the first place?" he cried out to the empty room. "Because you couldn't," he said more softly to himself. "Oh Edith, my lovely…. Oh god, I miss you so…" Then taking a deep breath, he reminded himself why he had done what he had done. Walking away from her had been the hardest thing he had ever done. But he knew her family wasn't happy with the arrangement and after hearing the whispers in the church…well, he just couldn't have people whispering about his dear sweet Edith like that. She was too fine, too special for such whisperings. And he really was too old for her. She deserved so much better than anything he could offer.

He tried to put it all out of his mind but worry kept creeping into his thoughts. She hadn't looked well at all and he was the cause of her pain. But he knew he had to let her family help her. He would only cause her more pain.

That evening, Edith feigned tiredness and begged off dinner, which seemed to relieve her aunt anyway. There was nothing like a depressed niece to throw off a party, Edith reflected. Once everyone was in the drawing room, she slipped downstairs and out the door with no one the wiser. _He_ would be somewhere for dinner, as well, she thought. With any luck, she would have time to get situated before anyone knew what she was about.

Entering the lobby of Claridge's, Edith made straight to the desk. "I'm here to see my uncle," she told the clerk, "Sir Anthony Strallan."

The clerk looked dismayed. "I'm sorry but he just left."

"Well, perhaps I could wait in his room for him?"

"I'm afraid that's not possible. But if you'd like to leave him a message?"

Things were not going as Edith had planned. She would have to adapt. Then an inspiration struck her as she looked at the room boxes along the back wall… "Yes, yes…excellent idea," she said as she smiled at the clerk. "Do you have a paper?"

He handed her a note card and envelope along with a pen and she began writing. Once she was done, she read her message:

_My dearest Anthony, please forgive yourself for what happened. I have. _

_Your dear sweet one, Edith._

"That should be alright," she thought to herself. Slipping the note into the envelope and handing it to the clerk, she watched carefully as he slipped it into one of the boxes. She saw the number, 303, on the box. Smiling, she walked away.

Anthony had dined in a little place just down the street. It was not a popular place which suited him well. He simply wanted to be left alone, remain anonymous and unnoticed. Once he was finished with his meal, he meandered aimlessly in the general direction of his hotel, not feeling any rush to return. After a few minutes, he realized he was scanning the faces of the people on the street, looking for _her_. Briefly he chastised himself for such foolishness and then set a straight path back, planning to lock himself in his room for the night and expunge his ridiculous thoughts.

The lobby was busy and Anthony was relieved to push through before he might be discovered. Climbing the steps to his floor, he felt reprieve as he neared his door. Pulling the key from his pocket, he unlocked it and entered his room. After closing the door, he turned to pull off his jacket but stopped in his spot when he spotted Edith on his bed. The initial shock was replaced by an even greater one when he saw what she was wearing.

"Wh…what are you doing here?" he managed to squeak.

Edith's expression was shy but determined. "I am not satisfied with your explanation for walking out of our wedding," she declared. "I am here for your elucidation."

His eyes swept over her, dressed in a white gown of some fashion. And then it dawned on him that a garment like that… it was intended for their wedding night. How could a garment cover her so completely and still expose so much, he wondered as he stared at her. Sweat began to form on his brow as he contemplated just what it was he had walked away from that day. "I can't… we can't…talk with you… Really Edith, you must put something else on if you expect me to…to…" his thoughts were lost as she stood and moved toward him. The fabric flowed with her and formed to her shape, leaving nothing and everything to his imagination. But what left him absolutely weak was the sight of her delicate little rosebuds under the bodice of her gown, her nipples teasing him to distraction.

"But I am comfortable in this," she informed him. "Besides, I think you should see what you walked away from."

Anthony took a deep breath. "I can't…you shouldn't be here… not in my room, not like this," he tried to insist.

"What? Are you worried about my reputation? I'm not. I'm beyond caring about that. It really doesn't matter anyway. I'll never love anyone the way I love you. And no one will ever love me as you have," she said gently. "I know you do…love me. I could see it in your eyes at the church…and this afternoon. But you walked away. And I will never know what it is to lie with a man…," she said pointedly.

Shocked, Anthony didn't know how to respond. "Edith, this isn't …"

"What? Right? I told you I don't care. I'm doomed to live the life of the family spinster and I want to know why."

Frowning, Anthony began to shake his head. "No, it doesn't have to be that way. You are so lovely…so sweet. Give yourself a chance, good men will come around. Soon this will all be a bad memory and you'll be happily settled in your home with an adoring husband and a house full of children."

"If I am willing to settle, I might find a husband. But I won't be happy; he won't be you…have your intelligence or your awkward sense of humor that fits mine so well. He won't be nearly as handsome as you, nor will his eyes take my breath away. And while we might tolerate one another, he will never make me feel adored as you did. Never in my life was I happier than when I was with you. And you took that away from me and I don't understand why. Why did you suddenly change your mind like that?"

"I had my doubts…you know I did. And I knew your family wasn't happy. Sitting there in the church, it all became very clear to me; I was doing you a monstrous injustice. You deserve so much better than I can ever be."

"I deserve to be happy," she insisted. Then stepping even closer to him, she looked at him straight in his eyes. "And tonight, I am going to claim my happiness…if only for one night."

Like a slap in the face, he was struck by what she intended. "No, my dear. No. You must leave…get dressed and leave."

"Or what? Will you have me tossed out? It is my reputation you are worried about, isn't it? Well, how will it help my reputation if you throw me out of your room?"

She was correct, of course. Anthony's mind churned trying to think of a way to save her from this madness. "Very well, then. You stay. I will leave."

Edith was quicker than he was and ran to the door, blocking him. "You'll have to make me move. That means you'll have to hold me and move me out of the way. If you put your arm around me, I'll win. You know I will," she said triumphantly.

Anthony mentally conceded that she was right. There was no way he would be able to resist temptation once he felt her warm body next to his. "Edith, please….please don't."

"Why not, Anthony? For whom am I saving myself? There are no suitors lining up to woo me and even if there were, I wouldn't be interested. I'm afraid you captured my heart completely and marrying me off to someone else will not change that." Stepping away from the door, she leaned into him, her hand resting on his chest and her face tilted up towards his. "Would have me spend the rest of my life pining for you, angry because I was denied happiness, slowly becoming a dried up old spinster who was only tolerated because people feel sorry for her? Is that the future you want for me? Because that is the future to which you are delegating me."

Oh god, he was drowning in her eyes and he knew his resistance was faltering. Why did she have to be so enticing? He dared not look lower than her face or he knew he would be lost. But as he looked into her eyes and felt her fingers moving along the buttons of his shirt, he realized he was lost in any account. All of the emotions of the past four months swirled through him, the countless nights of wanting and dreaming of her, the pain of knowing she could never be his, and feeling so utterly alone in the world. "Are you sure this is what you want?" he whispered, afraid to give life to the hope that was growing within him once again.

"It is what I've wanted since our first drive together. You aren't like any man I've known. No one understands me as you do. No one loves me as you do. No one makes me feels as cherished as you do."

Anthony took a step back. "Before you decide irrevocably, I need to show you what it will be like… being with me." Slowly, torturously he began to loosen his tie enough to slide it over his head. It was a trick he had learned, to not untie them but leave them looped so that he could manage. Then he worked at his top buttons until he had managed to free himself enough to slide the shirt over his head, his right arm flopping back to his side as it fell free from his sleeve. He stood there in front of her in his undershirt, watching her face as he tugged at the last barrier between Edith and his reality.

Finally he had the shirt off and his scars were in full view, as was the mangled flesh and destroyed muscle. His right shoulder and arm were a mess, he knew. The half disguised grimaces from the nurses at the hospital were forever engrained in his mind, reminders of just how grotesque he was. But to his surprise, she didn't flinch as she stared at him. Instead, she stepped to him and placed the sweetest, most tender kisses on his wounded flesh. Finally looking into his face, she smiled weakly. "I wish this had not happened to you," she said earnestly. "But it did. Still, it does not change my feelings for you. After that day at the church….Mama said I was being tested, that I would see, it would make me stronger. Perhaps we are being tested. Perhaps this is a test to see just how strong our love is." She paused and leaned up to plant a very tender kiss on his cheek. "You have shown me nothing that changes how I feel about you. Because, you see, I didn't fall in love with an arm and I don't see myself as some martyr who sacrifices herself to help a wounded warrior. I am a woman who is in love with the man of her dreams, who happens to be hurt. He also happens to be older. Upon thinking on it, and I've had months to do so, I believe that is part of why I love you so much. You _are_ older; you aren't shallow and looking only for the superficial attractions but see much more in me. There quite simply isn't another man who will ever have my heart as you do."

Gazing down into her sincere eyes, Anthony was convinced of the truth of her words. "Oh my darling, I wish I were the man you deserve."

Putting her hands on both sides of his face, holding him tenderly but firmly she insisted, "I deserve to be happy and when you are not being so obtuse, you make me extremely happy so you _are_ the man I deserve."

Feeling more confident than he had in months, Anthony stepped away from her. "Where are your clothes, Edith? Your proper clothes?"

"I…" she stammered, afraid he wasn't convinced. "I didn't wear them. I put my coat on over…this."

His eyes glittered as they scanned her gown. And then he groaned. "Alright then." Then reaching for his shirt again, he slipped it back on and fumbling, just managed the top buttons. "Put on your coat."

"But why?" she asked, his certainty striking a chord of fear in her.

"I am taking you back to your aunt's."

"No, no…I won't go. Hasn't anything I said made a difference?"

Anthony stopped and smiled at her. "It has made all the difference, my love. I am taking you back; you will not stay with me tonight."

"But…"

"Hush, my darling, and listen to me. I am taking you back. Your virtue will remain intact. If I am ever to face your father again, it must. Tomorrow, I will wait here in the lobby. If you feel the same in the morning … that I am truly what you want, then put on your prettiest frock and meet me here. And if you do, please be sure to bring along that lovely little bit of nothing you are wearing. We will find a magistrate and I will endeavor the rest of my life to make you happy."

Her eyes grew wide with surprise and excitement before her face clouded. "No, you'll change your mind," she said angrily. "Or it is a trick and you will have disappeared again."

"No my sweet, not tricks and I won't change my mind. You have made it quite clear that you are determined in this and my objections only prolong the suffering. I will wait for you in the morning. And in a few years, when you are quite tired of looking after me, I shall remind you that this was all your idea," he said with dancing eyes.

She smiled shyly at him. "Yes, it is my idea," she agreed. "One I am quite sure I will never regret."

1963

"Granny," the small child called to the older, gray haired woman sitting in the chair by the window. The woman, whose eyes had been scanning the scene outside, watching as the gardener and chauffer had another go at it over the rose bushes along the drive that Wilson had run over yet again this morning, turned to her granddaughter. "Yes?" she asked.

The child was holding a picture in her hand, the frame old and worn from being held so many times over the years. "You never talk about him," the girl said. "What was he like?"

"Come here, child," Edith instructed, "and bring his picture with you. Perhaps it is time I did tell you about him, even though it still hurts so much to talk about him."

Young Antoinette walked to her grandmother, carefully carrying the picture in front of her and handed it to Edith. Looking expectantly at her grandmother, the child recognized the sadness in the older face. "Papa says he was nice."

Edith smiled as she ran her fingertips over the picture, tracing the lines of her late husband's jaw. In the picture, it was set in a rather determined manner, one that she had come to cherish over the years even though that particular set of the jaw meant he was being obstinate. "I remember the day this was taken," she reflected. "He wasn't happy about it. I had made an appointment with the photographer and he had planned an outing for us. I won and he was quite put out. He'd planned a picnic, you see…just the two of us. But I made it up to him later…" she smiled wistfully.

Antoinette looked up at her grandmother and saw that far away look she got whenever she did talk about him. "But what was he like?" she asked.

Smiling down at her grandchild, Edith sighed happily. "He was the most wonderful man I have ever met. He was kind, and funny…so gentle and sweet. It seemed he reveled in thinking up new pet names for me… sweet one, dearest darling, darling one …" Her mind wandered again back to those wonderful days between the wars, when he had captured her heart so totally and then made it his life's work to cherish her. "He never thought he was good enough for me, that he was the man I deserved. But it was more the other way around, you see. I didn't deserve him." Looking down at the child, she saw that Antoinette didn't understand. "He was injured in the first War. And he thought I should have someone who was whole. But his injuries didn't matter to me, except that he was hurt by them. I loved him completely and ever so dearly. Others didn't understand what we had. They looked at us and saw two wallflowers; but when we were together, it was like magic…as if we were in an enchanted dream. My family worried that I might end up as more of a nurse than a wife. But it wasn't that way at all…" Edith paused, and took a deep breath. A day didn't go by that she didn't think of Anthony and remember, but talking about him always hurt because it emphasized the emptiness that she felt without him "Oh, he needed help from time to time and I was glad to give it; but that wasn't what our life together was about."

"Papa says he died in the War…" Antoinette offered.

"Yes, he did. It was a terrible time for us all and all the men and many women too were doing everything they could to help. We heard of a plane that crashed nearby, destroying the cottage and he went to help. They were digging and had just reached the farmer when one of the plane's bombs exploded and your grandfather was killed in the blast. I felt it, you know…when he died. I knew before they came to tell me."

Antoinette studied her grandmother's face seriously, watching as tears gathered in her eyes and began to fall. "Papa says I shouldn't ask you about him; Papa says it makes you cry."

"Yes, it does make me cry because I miss him so much even after all these years. But life goes on, my darling little one, and since he left me I've had to live for both of us. He would have been so pleased about you and quite proud that you bear his name. He didn't think he would ever have children so your Papa and your Aunt Cora were quite a surprise. He was quite funny about them both, doting at every opportunity. He loved them so very much…" her mind wandered again back through the memories, the wonderful blissfully happy memories.

"I wish I knew him," Antoinette said fretfully.

"Well, in a way I suppose you do," Edith said thoughtfully. "Your father is very much like him, kind and gentle…." Glancing back at the picture, Edith smiled. "As handsome as your father is though, I must say that Anthony was so very handsome. And this picture doesn't show it, but his eyes were so strikingly blue and intense at times. One couldn't help but be drawn to him." Then looking at her granddaughter's face, she exclaimed, "Just like yours."

"Really? Antoinette asked. "Am I like him in any way?"

Pulling her into a hug, Edith laughed. "Yes, you are. You have a bit of his sweet personality, I believe. But what I see most in you that came from him is your obstinacy. He could be quite stubborn at times…quite stubborn. It frustrated me, even hurt me a few times; but I always managed to get through it and in the end, he usually saw things my way…all the important things at least."

Later in the day, Edith went in search of her grand daughter to take her back to her parents. She found the child in Anthony's library looking around as if she were looking for something. "Antoinette?"

"The child looked up, her eyes startled and surprised, mimicking in miniature the eyes of her grandfather. "Yes, Grandmama?"

"What are you looking for?"

"Nothing…I just wanted to see…"

"See what?"

"I asked Davies where the enchanted place was."

Edith smiled inwardly. Davies, their ancient butler, must've been quite perplexed by the child's question. "And what did he say?"

"He said that where ever you and Grandpapa were was an enchanted place, but that you liked the library most. So I came in here to see the enchantment. But I can't find it"

"Well, that's because we aren't together just now. But one day…"

1980

On a cloudy afternoon following her grandmother's funeral, Lady Antoinette Strallan Whiting stood in the middle of the room, her eyes surveying the books that surrounded her. The picture of her grandparents taken on their honeymoon in Rome caught her attention. She couldn't remember when it hadn't sat in that spot on that table. But she supposed it would all change now. Her brother and his wife would be taking over the property soon and she had ideas about how to freshen it up. On impulse, Antoinette picked up the picture and held it close to her. She would take it with her when she left. It would not fall victim to the redecorating.

As she crossed the room to leave, the lighting changed, the room taking on an odd glow bathing it in a gentle warmth. And as she opened the door to leave, she thought she heard a soft whisper, "my dearest darling…" Antoinette paused and smiled before crossing to the hallway, gently closing the door behind her, leaving the enchanted place behind.


End file.
